


Love Is Blind

by weegee1204



Series: Everything Fits Universe [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Kid Fic, Kid!Roman, M/M, Parenthood, dad!janus, dad!logan, kid!Remus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27095107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weegee1204/pseuds/weegee1204
Summary: Logan has a test for Janus.
Relationships: Deceit | Janus Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Series: Everything Fits Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977547
Comments: 19
Kudos: 120





	Love Is Blind

**Author's Note:**

> this is a prequel oneshot to my 'Everything Fit' series, and was basically my excuse to write unbearably cute baby stuff.

“This is a very difficult decision, indeed,” Logan muttered. His eyes were narrowed, his brow was furrowed, and his lips were downturned. All signs that he was in serious deep thought.

Cautiously, he reached out his hands to grab the two items he had been looking at, weighing them in his hands and inspecting them more closely.

“What do you think?” he asked over his shoulder, turning around and holding the two objects out in front of him.

“Regular Cheerios or Honey Nut Cheerios?”

Roman and Remus looked at him from their position in the shopping cart. Roman babbled gibberish and waved his arms around, while Remus sucked on his fingers and kicked his legs out.

Logan hummed thoughtfully. “That is a good point, Roman,” he replied. “Although Honey Nut Cheerios are the less healthy option, the likelihood of the two of you actually eating your food as opposed to throwing it on the floor will increase exponentially if the food in question is yummy. And I think we can all agree, Honey Nut Cheerios are yummier than regular Cheerios.”

Remus interjected with a series of wordless squeals, pulling his hand out of his mouth and waving the spit-covered fist in the air.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’re suggesting that we could pair the regular Cheerios with a healthier yummy food option, like bananas?”

Remus made a loud noise that sounded like an affirmation.

“A very good compromise, Remus,” Logan stated, dropping the regular Cheerios in the cart and kissing his sons on their heads. “Thank you both for your input.”

The twins smiled up at their Daddy, Roman leaning backwards in an attempt to place a sloppy kiss on Logan’s chin. Logan melted.

“Thank you, Rollypolly,” he cooed, his usually intelligent demeanor quickly losing the battle with his desire to babytalk his sons, and with that, he pushed the cart out of the grocery section of the Walmart.

“Before we go, I would like to browse through the infant section, in order to find the two of you some suitable outfits for the upcoming warmer weather,” Logan informed the twins, eyeing down at them as he walked through the aisles. They took one look at his face and broke into laughter for no reason Logan could think of. Nevertheless, Logan couldn’t keep up the stern facade; baby laughter was the most contagious sound in the world.

Despite Logan and Janus knowing from the start that they wanted twins (that was _not_ the sort of thing that was left up to chance when going through a surrogate), there were minor complications to the parenting process that the two new fathers had to learn through trial and error.

For example: they _had_ to dress the boys in different outfits.

It was simply a strategic move: even for twins, the physical similarities between Roman and Remus were striking. Same dark brown eyes, same curly auburn hair, same breathtaking smiles that took up their entire faces— and now Logan had to physically drag his focus away from his boys before he knocked over a display rack of sunglasses in his distracted stupor. The point is, they had to forgo dressing the boys in identical outfits, or else there would be no telling who was who.

Still, Logan thought as he maneuvered the cart into the infant section, part of the fun with babies was dressing them in the cutest clothes ever made, and the Croft-Sanders twins had many corresponding outfits that were sufficiently distinct while still being adorable. They often wore clothes that bore phrases like “Thing One” and “Thing Two”, “Prepare For Trouble” and “And Make It Double”, or “I’m With Stupid” and “I’m Stupid” (Janus thought those two were particularly hilarious, despite Logan’s amused disapproval.)

He browsed idly, flipping between pairs of overalls before his eyes fell onto a rack of simpler onesies. They were plain, each one a different solid color in a variety of hues. He normally would pass them by for something with a bit more flair, but the two hanging next to each other right in the front caught his eye… for a specific reason.

Logan looked at them for a second, the gears turning in his head, before he grinned, pulling the two onesies in question off the rack and placing them in the cart. The twins gurgled as he leaned over them, and he pulled back to give each of them another kiss on the head.

“Pay attention to Papa’s reaction when he sees your new clothes,” he confided in them. “I suspect it will be very funny.”

~

Later that evening, Logan was standing in the kitchen preparing dinner when he heard the door slam, two arms wrapping around his waist before he could react.

“Hey, handsome,” a voice purred in his ear, and Logan rolled his eyes, whacking one of the arms with a dish towel.

“Please release me so I don’t burn our house down,” he replied, straightening his smile into something neutral as he turned around to face his husband.

Janus grinned. “If you did, we could collect on the insurance and move somewhere nicer.”

Logan rolled his eyes again. “Yes, along with the myriad of backup funds we currently possess, I do think that uprooting our impressionable young children and separating them from all they are familiar with is a _fantastic_ idea—” 

His retort was interrupted with Janus pressing their lips together, which Logan was happy to reciprocate.

“Speaking of our children,” Janus said as they pulled away, and Logan still got a certain thrill in his chest when Janus said _our children_ , “where are the little gremlins?”

“In the playpen,” Logan replied, biting the inside of his cheek. “Will you check Remus’ diaper? I changed Roman’s earlier but Remus didn’t need it, and I suspect he will by now.”

Janus sighed. “I’ve been home for five minutes and you’ve already got me doing the dirty work.”

“Thank you, Sanders,” Logan sang, ignoring Janus’ complaint in favor of moving away to turn off the stovetop.

He continued to bustle around the kitchen, but his attention was on Janus, who entered the living room where the boys’ playpen was set up.

“Alright, Reemypop,” Logan heard him say. “Time to face the music—”

He stopped suddenly. Logan waited in anticipation.

“Croft,” Janus said in a voice devoid of emotion.

Logan hurried into the living room, where Janus was looking down into the playpen. The two locked eyes.

“You must think you are very funny,” Janus remarked dryly. Logan couldn’t stop the smile from forming on his face.

“Remus is wearing the green onesie,” he responded oh-so-helpfully, once again ignoring Janus’ statement.

“And I assume,” Janus deadpanned, “Roman is wearing a red one.”

Logan hummed. “Excellent deductive reasoning.”

Janus leveled his husband with an unimpressed look.

“I never expected to be mocked for my colorblindness by my own husband,” he finally said.

Logan flashed him a grin. “Come on, Sanders. Surely you’re able to tell the difference between your own sons.”

With that, Logan settled into the rocking chair, folding his arms and looking at his husband with amusement.

Janus looked from him, to the twins, to him again. He sighed, but Logan recognized that look in his eyes: he was ready to play.

“If you insist,” Janus drawled, before leaning forward and picking up the boys in one swoop. They made happy noises at being lifted in the air, and even more so when Janus pressed a kiss onto each of their heads.

He expertly turned them around so they were facing Logan, their backs tucked into Janus’ arms.

“Wave goodbye to Daddy, because I’m going to kill him,” he told the boys cheerfully. They each waved a hand in Logan’s general direction.

“No, don’t—” Logan protested, trying to quell his laughter. “They’ll remember that years down the line, you know.”

“Good. At least their therapists will find them interesting.”

He looked down at the two babies in his arms. He lifted each of them up and down, as if weighing them. They paid absolutely no attention to him: the one on his left continued to wave at Logan, while the other attempted to squirm out of Janus’ hold altogether.

“Remus,” Janus cooed. Both boys turned their heads in his direction.

Janus tsked, and waited for their attention to drift before he tried again. “Roman?”

Again both boys turned back to look at their Papa. Logan snickered softly.

“Darn,” Janus muttered. “I _definitely_ thought that would work.”

He paused in thought, before sighing. “Well, Daddy said Remus probably needs a diaper change. So…”

He leaned forward to give each of his sons a preliminary sniff. Logan wrinkled his nose at the unpleasant, but usually necessary, task.

Janus leaned back. “No dice.”

“That’s good, at least,” Logan offered.

“ _That’s good, at least_ ,” Janus mimicked, making a face at his husband. He looked down at his sons again, eyes narrowed.

“Okay, Sanders,” he muttered, making Logan snort. “Figure it out.”

He gently maneuvered the three of them to the floor, laying the twins side by side on their backs and sitting criss-cross applesauce in front of them.

He studied them closely. Left Baby reached out to him and made grabby hands, while Right Baby was focused on trying to insert his entire foot into his mouth, both of them babbling adorably.

“Now, Remus is more likely to ask to be picked up than Roman is,” Janus reasoned, pointing a finger at Left Baby; his finger slid over to Right Baby as he continued, “But Roman never tries to chew on his feet like Remus does, so the data is inconclusive.”

Janus tapped his chin, apparently deep in thought. He reached into the playpen, scrabbling around for what he needed for his next test.

“Aha!” he exclaimed, emerging from the playpen and placing the item in between the boys.

“Who wants the Dragon Witch?” he cooed. The twins whipped their heads in unison, eyes wide as they both caught sight of their favorite toy: a green stuffed dragon with a witch hat on its head.

Logan hummed deeply. “I must admit, that’s a good strategy.”

Janus shushed him without looking, his eyes on the boys as they both reached out their hands.

Left Baby reached the toy first, grabbing the tail in one pudgy fist and yanking it towards him. It tottered over, falling on its side just out of reach of Right Baby.

Deceit smiled. Now all he had to do was wait for Right Baby’s reaction. If Roman took a toy, Remus wouldn’t care in the slightest; if _Remus_ took a toy, however, Roman would cry and scream like there was no tomorrow.

Sure enough, Right Baby began making a series of noises that were not quite cries, but were well on their way there.

“Yes!” Janus hissed, pumping his fist slightly. “That one’s Roman, and this one is—”

He cut himself off as Left Baby made a loud, short noise at seeing his brother start to cry. Still gripping the Dragon Witch by its tail, he swung his arm out as much as he could, and the toy flopped into Right Baby’s space, without Left Baby having to let it go.

Immediately Right Baby stopped crying, and he strained for a few seconds before managing to grab the Dragon Witch by its puffy nose. The two brothers stayed like that, holding the Dragon Witch between them, as they turned to face their Papa again.

Janus was gawking at the display. “Of all the times you two could’ve learned how to share, it had to be now?”

Logan hummed in response, preoccupied with taking several photos of the adorable scene. He watched with amusement as Janus’ brow furrowed in concentration, before he gave a triumphant laugh as he got a new idea.

Janus slowly raised his two index fingers, swirling them in the air above each of his sons.

“Here comes the tickle monster!” he growled playfully. The twins were both ticklish, but Remus specifically would squirm and flail and shriek whenever Papa would pretend to be the tickle monster with them.

Apparently Roman had caught onto that mindset, because both boys let out an identical series of squeals at the sight of the fingers hovering over their bellies.

Janus smiled, unable to stop himself from giving the boys a few seconds of tummy tickles, Logan snapping pictures all the while.

“Smile for the camera, boys,” Janus cooed, “because in about ten years we’re gonna use these pictures to embarrass the crap out of you.”

Logan snorted. “ _Please_ stop saying things that will scar them in the future.”

Janus only grinned, eventually pulling back his hands and peering down at his children.

“Maybe I could just leave them like this,” he pondered aloud. “I love them equally. I don’t need to know which one is which.”

“Are you admitting defeat?” Logan asked.

Janus scowled. “Never.”

“Then answer the question!”

“Fine!”

The two men glowered at each other.

Finally Janus broke eye contact, and, taking a deep breath, pointed his finger yet again.

“Eeny, meeny, miny, mo—”

Logan burst out laughing.

“No, no, no, no, _no_! I _refuse_ to let you use Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Mo to determine which of our children is which!” His voice rose in pitch as he laughed incredulously at his husband.

Janus ignored him, continuing his game as Logan fell into hysterics behind him.

“My mother told me to pick the very best one and you. Are. It!”

His finger landed on Left Baby.

“That one’s Remus,” Janus declared.

Logan slowly stopped laughing and peered over Janus’ shoulder, eyes following his finger. 

“Janus Sanders…”

A pause.

“That is Roman.”

Janus groaned, slamming his fist on the carpet. “No! Fu— falsehood!”

Logan sidestepped, reaching around to pick up Left Baby— Roman. He held the child up to Janus’ face.

“Roman is wearing red,” he said slowly, as if he were teaching his sons about colors as opposed to his husband. “Can you say ‘red’, Janus?”

Janus scoffed, leaning forward to pick up Right Baby, otherwise known as Remus.

“And Remus is wearing green,” he confirmed, rocking the baby into his chest. His son sighed adorably, and Janus pressed another kiss onto his head. He looked up at Logan, who was pressing his lips against Roman’s head simultaneously.

“You are a bastard, Logan Croft.”

“Takes one to know one, Janus Sanders.”

Janus stuck his tongue out at Logan. Remus mimicked him, causing both men to drop the act as they cooed over their son.

Until they wrinkled their noses in sync.

Janus’ eyes shot up to Logan’s. “Do you want me to—”

“Yes, please,” Logan finished with gratitude. Janus sighed, carefully standing up without jostling Remus too badly.

“How long until potty training?” he asked over his shoulder, exiting the living room and heading in the direction of the nursery.

“The answer will only disappoint you,” Logan replied, settling back into the rocking chair with Roman in his arms.

He smiled down at his son, placing yet another kiss on his forehead. He caressed Roman’s head as the baby babbled into his chest.

“Good job, Rollypolly,” he murmured, and as he slowly rocked the chair back and forth, his fingers traced the crown of Roman’s head to find the hidden birthmark that Logan used to tell the twins apart.

His fingers found nothing.

Logan paused in his rocking, and looked down into his son’s face. He gently brushed back his auburn curls, eyes searching for the distinguishable mark that lay beneath his hair.

Nothing.

Logan blinked. That was impossible. Roman _definitely_ had a birthmark— small and temporary, certainly, but he had one. So why…

Logan’s gaze dropped back to examine the baby in his arms. “Roman?”

The baby stared back at him with wide eyes, scrunching the fabric of his bright red onesie in his tiny fist.

“... Remus?”

There was silence for half a second before Roman— before _Remus_ — broke into loud peals of adorable giggles, his tiny smile growing wide as he laughed in Logan’s face.

Logan couldn’t help it. He started laughing, too, slightly sleep deprived laughter that made his chest heave, jostling Remus and causing him to laugh harder, which caused _Logan_ to laugh even harder, on and on and on.

Several minutes went by before Logan was able to stop, and even then he had needed to close his eyes in order to avoid falling back into laughter at seeing his son’s happy face. He almost lost it again when he felt Remus batting at his face with uncoordinated hands, but he managed to calm the two of them enough to stand up from the rocking chair.

“You are a troublemaker,” he murmured against his baby’s head. Remus made little noises that sounded like agreement. Logan gave a contented sigh, a sheepish grin growing on his face as he realized what he had to do next.

“Sanders,” he called down the hallway, carrying Remus to join his Papa and brother, “I have to confess something…”

**Author's Note:**

> yes, logan and janus' nicknames for roman and remus are rollypolly and reemypop, respectively. yes, it is toothrottingly adorable.
> 
> find me on tumblr at [olliedollie1204](olliedollie1204.tumblr.com)!


End file.
